


Irreversibly Entangled - (a tribute to nyxocity's Homework Verse series)

by 36and40



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Bottom Jensen Ackles, But Then My Homework Was Never Quite Like This, Come Swallowing, Desk Sex, Display of Emotion, Finger Sucking, Forgiveness, Fucking with Pants On, Gay Marriage, Homework Verse, Jensen has OCD, Jensen is Wealthy, Larger Age Difference Than in Real Life, Leashes, Light BDSM, M/M, Marriage Proposal, No Explanation of Jared's Absentee Parents, Nyxocity, Oral Sex, Ownership, Porn with Feelings, Power Shift, Prostate Stimulation, Psych Kink, References to Physics, Shaving Kink, Taking control, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Jared Padalecki, Top Jensen Ackles, Wedding Night, Wedding Planning, Wedding after Gay Marriage is Legalized, Willingly Obeying, bottom!Jared, bottom!Jensen, collaring, surrendering control, top!Jared, top!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24681763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/36and40/pseuds/36and40
Summary: Jensen never thought that state-sanctioned marriage was for him.  Maybe he was wrong.This is tribute to nyxocity's Homework Verse series; my attempt at a "missing chapter" I always wished it had.  You must read Homework Verse up to the chapter "I Hold the Lock and You Hold the Key" before reading this or it will not make sense (link in intro).Apologies for the REALLY LONG intro.
Relationships: Jared/Jensen, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Irreversibly Entangled - (a tribute to nyxocity's Homework Verse series)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyxocity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxocity/gifts), [Valkyrie69](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrie69/gifts).
  * Inspired by [But Then, My Homework Was Never Quite Like This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/406999) by [nyxocity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxocity/pseuds/nyxocity). 



> Warning – long introduction!
> 
> You are not allowed to read this story until you’ve read “But Then, My Homework was Never Quite Like This” by nyxocity. 
> 
> It’s a series. I encourage you to read the entire series, but you only have to read through “I Hold the Lock and You Hold the Key”, which will take you awhile, for what I've written here to make sense. Read everything leading up to and including that chapter. My story is placed a year after “I Hold the Lock and You Hold the Key”, but does not align timeline-wise with everything in the series that comes after that. 
> 
> That is your assignment.
> 
> If you don’t read that first, the characters in my story and how they act will not make any sense and anything I wanted to come across as emotional will not have any impact unless you have all of that background.
> 
> I cannot remember how I first came across the Homework Verse series. Probably because I loved nyxocity's “Stranger Than Fiction” so much – it was my gateway to slash. 
> 
> When I first read the description for the Homework Verse series, I was turned off immediately. It’s real-person fiction which I always thought was far too disrespectful and invasive of real actors’ names and identities. It’s teacher/student (with the accompanying age differences and power imbalances – I assumed), which is wrong in the real world on so many levels. It’s deep into BDSM and that is something I never thought I wanted to know all that much about.
> 
> Most of my assumptions were wrong wrong wrong .
> 
> Nyxocity is a master. No one writes a sex scene like she does. Her skill inspired me to try writing slash myself. But her sex scenes are not just fantasy after fantasy…there is real emotion there. Her “I Hold the Lock and You Hold the Key” chapter still makes me tear up. Nyxocity made me not only care about, but want to understand some of these things that were foreign to me before reading this. And in my book, anything that increases understanding of something previously not understood is important.
> 
> A friend and I read Homework Verse together at least once every two years; just to remember how incredibly good it is.
> 
> I tried to contact nyxocity for a long time – wanting her to write a specific addition to her story. I was never able to make that happen. Finally, many years after I first read Homework Verse, as a gift to my friend who loves this story as much as I do, I decided to try to write it myself. After reading what I wrote, my friend encouraged me to post it.
> 
> I will NEVER come close to Nyxocity’s skill. And it was she who created these complex and interesting characters – she did all the work. I only attempted to build on that work here. I wrote the chapter I wanted her to write – and I’m sure I did not write it as well as she could have, but I tried hard to do justice to her great characters. 
> 
> Note – Whenever I attempt to write anything involving even a small aspect of BDSM, I run it past someone who is experienced in that arena first. I did not do that this time. I wrote what I wanted and so I apologize if what I wrote seems unlikely to someone who follows that lifestyle or if it steps on some aspect of BDSM etiquette I’m not aware of. I will say that nyxocity created characters in Homework Verse who are not inclined to follow all traditional roles, as I understand them, in that community, so I felt okay doing it this way.
> 
> Thank you, nyxocity – you expanded my world.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

June 16, 2008

"JENSEN!!!!"

Jensen's heart jumps. He's in the back of the house, just buttoning his shirt before heading out to the kitchen and Jared's yelling his name. Jared's voice is too high. Something's wrong.

He forgets his glasses in a rush and _runs_ , skidding to a stop just inside the doorway where he sees only the familiar sight of Jared sitting at the table, slight look of amazement on his face.

"What, what is it? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" That's always his first panicked thought when it comes to Jared.

"What?" Jared looks confused, "No, no I'm fine," he completely ignores Jensen's flustered state. "Have you seen this?"

Jensen's mind tries to shift out of crisis mode and he squints to focus on the newspaper Jared's holding up. Even without his glasses, he can make out the headline in huge bold type: **GAY MARRIAGE LEGAL IN CALIFORNIA** bolstered by a sea of blurry rainbow flags in the image below.

Rainbow flags. Jensen never understood them. He has about as much in common with a drag queen as a chicken has with a tomato. Why did someone think that a sexuality, something that is innate and not chosen, needed a flag? A label for the whole world to see. And a garish one at that. He'd never worn or carried or flown anything rainbow in his entire life.

"Can you fucking believe it?" Jared asks, wonder in his voice.

Jensen walks over to stand behind him. "I don't have my glasses," he points out the obvious. "Read it to me." And no, he can't believe it. Can't believe it at all. Unnatural sinner is ingrained in him. Things like "outsider" and "pervert" and "deviant". Most of what he enjoys is illegal in most states, except, now, apparently, in his own state. No, he can't believe it.

Jared finishes reading the article and drops the paper. "They did it. They really fucking did it." He shakes his head in disbelief.

" 'They' who?" Jensen asks.

"Everyone who’s been working on this for as long as we've been alive." Jared looks at him like he was born yesterday.

Jensen gave up on society's approval long ago. As much as he follows current events, perhaps he's the least-informed gay man ever that he isn’t up on the status of the court cases in the gay marriage fight like Jared is. It seemed like such a long shot, and so unnecessary to him personally, that he didn’t bother keeping up.

"I'm happy for them," Jensen pronounces, going to get himself a cup of coffee.

Jared turns in his chair, incredulous, "You're 'happy for them'??? That's all you have to say about it?"

"What else is there to say?" Jensen asks. "It doesn't change our life in any way, but if traditional marriage matters to people and now they can have it, I'm happy for them."

"Jensen, I know how you feel about state-sanctioned marriage, but, you gotta admit, this is huge." Jared starts to stand up to get himself more coffee but Jensen stops him, lifting his empty cup from the table and filling it before adding a tablespoon of sugar, stirring it three times, and setting it back down in front of him.

Jensen thinks about it, "I guess a lot of people will think it's a big deal," he admits. He gives a slightly evil chuckle, "I bet the conservatives will think it's a _very_ big deal." He takes a sip of coffee.

"It _is_ a big deal," Jared insists. "Now gay couples can have access to their partner's healthcare if they don't have it. Adoption will be easier for people who want it. No one can stop someone from seeing their partner in the hospital anymore..." Jared keeps talking about the other benefits he sees resulting from this new turn of events, but Jensen's mind fastened on that last thing he said; the thing about the hospital. The idea that anyone might think that they could legally stop him from seeing Jared, under any circumstances, makes his blood start to heat with anger. He's pretty sure he'd physically kill anyone who tried to get between him and Jared.

" ...and who knows how many other things will be easier," Jared concludes.

"Hold on," Jensen's observant mind kicks in, "you realize this only applies to California, right?"

"Of course," Jared replies, "but maybe someday it'll be the whole country." He sounds hopeful.

Jensen gives a slightly rueful laugh. "I love your optimism, but don't count on it," he says cynically.

"Well, I'm just glad we live in California," Jared concludes, setting the paper aside. Jared doesn't need an official marriage license to tell him he belongs to Jensen. They'd worked out their differences of opinion where marriage was concerned and he loves the life they have. They pledged themselves to each other, in the way that had the most meaning for them both, over a year ago. Yet the headline in the paper still makes him smile.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sometimes Jensen's brain won't leave him the fuck alone. _'Now no one can stop someone from seeing their partner in the hospital.’_ _Could_ someone do that to him? Were they, _are_ they legally allowed to do that? It makes his stomach turn. It keeps nagging at him and won’t shut up, even when he's trying to drift off at night.

Lying awake, one thought melds into another and before he can tell himself to stop being such a sentimental idiot, he's picturing the two of them dancing together. Maybe at Chris' club. There are some people they truly love in their lives. Chad, Chris, a handful of close colleagues and people they trust. He knows how much Jared likes a party - about 1,000 times more than he himself does. Is it that bad to file paperwork at the courthouse and go through one night of celebrating with their closest friends to make sure that he and Jared have more legally-defendable rights as a couple? Jared's home for the summer after finishing his undergraduate degree in three years instead of four. Maybe, just maybe -

By the morning of the seventh day after Jared read him the article in the paper, Jensen can’t take the constant needling of his thoughts, interfering with everything from research to sleep. He has to make it stop. Now.

Jared rolls over and opens his eyes to find Jensen seemingly trying to stare him awake from his own side of the mattress. He wrinkles his brow and covers a yawn. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Jensen clears his throat. "I’m sorry to ambush you like this, but could you sit on the edge of the bed for me?" he asks Jared.

Confused and sleepy, Jared complies, swinging his legs over the edge as Jensen stands and then sinks down in front of him.

"What're you doing?" Jared asks groggily.

"Jared," Jensen looks up at him, then he shakes his head like he broke some unspoken rule by getting something wrong and he starts over, "Jared Tristan Padalecki, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

You could have knocked Jared over with a feather. He stifles his first impulse which is a completely inappropriate nervous laugh, because, knowing the way Jensen feels about marriage, he also knows he wouldn't fuck around about this. Still, this has completely blindsided him and he’s knocked off balance.

He has to make sure. "You're serious?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

"Deadly," Jensen replies.

"What made you change you mind?" He has to know.

"A few things," Jensen reveals, "and I'd be glad to show you the list I made, but you still haven't answered my question and I'm starting to wonder if I should be getting nervous here." He looks up at Jared with some actual worry.

"Jesus Christ, Jensen," Jared takes in how sincere Jensen looks, actually down on one fucking knee, asking him to marry him. "Of course - yes - _YES_!" and he leans down, pulling Jensen up for a kiss.

Jensen's smiling when he pulls back. Then he starts to redden with embarrassment.

"What?" Jared asks.

"I um," Jensen stammers a bit, "I didn't plan on asking you this morning and I didn't think ahead. I don't have a ring."

Jared smiles wide. " _You_ didn't plan ahead?" He shakes his head, "First you ask me to marry you, then you tell me you didn't plan ahead - who _are_ you?"

"Stop it," Jensen grouses. “I just had to ask you.”

“Why so sudden?” Jared wonders aloud.

“The list might help explain it,” Jensen replies, then pauses before insisting, "You deserve a ring."

Jared thinks for a minute. He takes off the bracelet Jensen gave him. The one with Entanglement/Irreversibility engraved inside and out. "Use this." He holds it out to Jensen. "I love it more than anything I own. I haven't taken it off since you gave it to me. I chose to put it on my own wrist that day. I'm taking it off now and asking _you_ to put it back on me. I'm choosing you, Jensen."

Jensen’s sigh of relief rushes out. He smiles and fastens the bracelet back around Jared's wrist that looked all wrong without it.

"What about you?" Jared asks.

"What _about_ me?" Jensen replies, confused.

"I don't have a ring for you either," Jared points out.

"You weren't the one doing the asking," Jensen rationalizes.

Jared gets down on one knee next to Jensen on the floor. "We have the most equal relationship I've ever known," Jared tells him. "We both get to choose." And with that he takes a deep breath, grabs Jensen's hand, and says, "Jensen Ross Ackles, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Jensen smiles. "Yes, Jared. I'm the one who’s honored though."

"Always have to get the last word," Jared chuckles. He reaches back and pulls the black elastic from his hair, releasing it to swing gracefully, skimming his shoulders. He loops it twice and slides it onto Jensen's ring finger.

"There," he says with playful finality. "This’ll keep all those cock sluts away until I can make an honest man out of you."

Jensen can't help but laugh at this incredible kid who’s not a kid anymore that shares his life. Jared's an open, optimistic, fucking gorgeous book that he's never going to tire of. And fuck yes he just ended a thought with a preposition. The things Jared makes him do....

"Now," Jared stands and offers a hand to pull Jensen from the ground, "I wanna read that list."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

PROS

  1. Jared would _legally_ be mine.
  2. No one can stop me from seeing him
  3. Can't be compelled to testify against me in a court of law (that one made Jared wonder)
  4. Makes ownership/inheritance easier
  5. Can carry each other's health insurance if we ever need to
  6. Can actually sue anyone who gives us shit
  7. Prove my parents wrong - they said I could never get married
  8. Really piss off the religious right
  9. Can't be arrested for everything we do together
  10. Respect in some people's eyes
  11. Blow Chris and Chad's minds
  12. I’ll _legally_ be Jared’s



There is no "con" column.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

They settle on September 13th. A Saturday.

"But I'll be starting grad school then," Jared worries.

"I think I can talk to Tim about a two week absence." Tim Omundson, the Dean of the College of Engineering at Stanford is one of Jensen's oldest colleagues. He’ll probably be on the guest list. Besides, he knows Jared will work ahead of the start of classes so he doesn't lose ground.

"Two weeks - are you planning some kind of destination wedding?" Jared looks at him with surprise.

"No, I wasn't thinking that - I just thought maybe we could get a little time off after."

Jared leans back in his chair, crosses his arms, and looks Jensen up and down. "You fucking romantic. I _knew_ it."

Jensen narrows his eyes. "Are you saying you don't want two weeks off with me? There are so many things we could do..." Under the table, Jensen slides a bare foot down the inside of Jared's thigh.

"Say no more," Jared swallows hard. "I'll work ahead."

"I know." Jensen smiles. "I'll help you."

"I know." Jared's sorry when Jensen lets his foot fall back to the floor.

"So where do you want to have the ceremony?" Jensen straightens his glasses and holds a perfectly-sharpened pencil over a blank sheet of paper. He thinks for a second, "No churches."

"Oh God, no!" Jared confirms.

It will be small. Only those they love and who love them the most. No distant family. Barely any immediate family except for Jared's younger sister Megan who has always taken their relationship as seriously as her own.

"How about Chris' club?" Jensen asks.

"I thought we already decided on that for the reception," Jared reminds him.

Jensen tries again. "What about Chris' club for the whole thing? He's got that patio that looks out on the hills, and no one has to drive anywhere to get to the reception that way." Jensen looks at him, trying to hide a hopeful expression under his cool exterior.

Jared sees right through it. He marvels at how Jensen's kind of getting into this planning thing. Of course he is; he loves to plan.

Jared smiles at full voltage and pulls a surprised Jensen into a kiss. "That sounds like a great idea."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jensen calls Chris within the hour. Chris had just about passed out when Jensen told him he'd asked Jared to marry him a week ago. It was so out of character for the Jensen he's known in recent years.

Of course the 13th was available - so many ridiculous superstitious motherfuckers never want to hold an event on the 13th.

Jensen can't understand why - it's just another day.

"Because....they're _superstitious motherfuckers_?" Chris repeats slowly.

"Okay, whatever, that's the day we want."

"It's yours," Chris promises. "Besides, I would have cancelled anyone else's reservation for you if they'd already booked that day, you know that."

Jensen smiles on the other end of the line. Chris is so much better of a friend to him than he deserves. He clears his throat. "It has to be perfect." He uses the tone of voice that he hopes drives home to Chris just how essential this part is.

"Of course it has to be perfect!" Chris exclaims. "You came to me, didn't you?"

Jensen sighs. "I mean it _really_ has to be perfect. This is important to Jared."

Silence from Chris for a few seconds. "Only to Jared, huh?" Jensen can hear the pointed sarcasm.

Jensen rolls his eyes.

"I can hear you rolling your eyes, you know," Chris teases him. "Look," he continues, "I know you. I know that what passes for perfect in most people's eyes is mediocre-according-to-Jensen. I have the perfect person for your level of 'perfect'."

Jensen's temper flares before he can stop it or be irritated with too many uses of the word “perfect” in the same sentence. "But I'm asking _you_. I'm calling _you_ , Chris. I trust _you_."

"You trust me and I trust her," Chris states matter-of-factly.

" 'Her' who?" Jensen asks warily.

"Grit," Chris replies. "Her name's Grit."

"Sounds more like a cowboy," Jensen comments wryly.

"I hired her a month ago. Lured her away from her job as executive concierge at the Bellagio."

"Vegas?!" Jensen's voice rises. Suddenly picturing acrobats on aerial silks and fucking sequins and just - "No. No fucking way."

Chris sighs into the phone. When he speaks again it's with the patient tone most people would reserve for a toddler. “ 'Executive concierge', Jensen. I'm not talking about getting a bowl of green M&M's for Ben Affleck's high roller suite one weekend a year and shit like that. She was in charge of events for Saudi royalty and the British aristocracy and whole fucking Formula One racing teams with more money than God. She knows how to do 'perfect'."

"I don't have more money than God," Jensen points out.

"Shut up, it's my gift to you and Jay." Chris sounds like he's smiling. He's also the only person outside of Jensen or Chad who's allowed to call Jared that.

"I don't know what to say." Jensen's voice is hushed and Chris can tell how touched he is.

"Just say 'thank you', asshole. I want to do this."

"Thank you," Jensen says, throat tight. But the idea of trusting a stranger with _this_ , with all of the important details, still nags at him. "You're sure about this woman?"

"Grit, Jensen, her name's Grit."

"Yes, okay, 'Grit', you're sure? Absolutely sure?"

Chris is going to try to come at it from a different direction, one last time, before he starts getting annoyed. "What kind of car do you drive?" he asks Jensen.

"You know I drive a BMW." Jensen sounds exasperated. "What the hell does that have to do with -"

"Why a BMW?"

True irritation rises in Jensen's voice. "Because the Germans are precise and they care about little details as well as the whole package. Exquisite functionality," he recites his usual speech about the superiority of German engineering. "But what the fuck does that -"

"Because she's German, Jensen. Born and raised in West Berlin. She's been in America for decades, but let's just say she honors her roots."

Oh.

"You trust me?" Chris asks. He just wants to make Jensen say it again.

"I just told you I did."

"I'll be working with her and with you and Jay, every step of the way. I promise. So how about you drive that fine piece of _German_ engineering over here tomorrow night and meet her. You'll see," Chris reassures him.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Of course Chris was right. Jensen and Jared come away from the meeting in stunned silence. How could someone, just from the questions they answered, demonstrate such a clear and immediate understanding of what they like, what they don’t, and what’s most important to them? Jensen makes a mental note never to question Chris’ choices again.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

September 13, 2008

There was never any doubt that Chris would stand up for Jensen and Chad for Jared. They each thought about groomsmen’s gifts and had smiled at each other in satisfaction when they almost simultaneously hit on just the right thing.

Earlier in the day, Jensen slid a rich, leather-covered box into Chris' overcoat pocket. He was pretty sure Chris would love it. A watch from the Montana Watch Company. Made in America, classic and a little rugged, like Chris himself. Impeccable craftsmanship. North of $10,000. Chris can play the high end private club host and does so with ease, but Jensen knows he heads for his cabin up north, trading his tailored suits for jeans and t-shirts, every chance he gets. This watch was something nice enough for him to wear while working the club, but just rugged enough to remind him that his favorite place is waiting for him as soon as he's off the clock. When Chris discovers it in his pocket, he immediately tracks Jensen down, embracing him.

"Jensen, this is," he shakes his head slowly, "it's too much. It cost more than this entire day."

Jensen smiles, "I should hope so." He puts a hand on Chris' arm. "There's nothing I could give you that would show you how grateful I am. For everything."

"You owe me nothing," Chris declares. "You paid for half this place when all I could do was dream about owning it someday.” Chris’ gesture encompasses the limestone walls illuminated by the glowing alabaster bowls of the chandeliers surrounding them. “I couldn't have done it without you."

"Best investment I ever made." Jensen smiles at his friend. "As I recall, you paid me back in full. With interest."

"No one else believed in me," Chris remembers. "Couldn't get a bank to loan me money if I'd promised to suck every cock in the place."

Jensen stifles what could almost be called a giggle. "Good thing I didn't have terms that required that anyone suck anything." He winks at Chris. "You're the one that insisted it was a loan and not a gift."

"I had to prove it to myself. That I could do it."

"I always knew you could."

"Just, damn, thanks." Chris runs his fingers over the watch face. "I love it."

"Turn it over," Jensen instructs.

Chris smiles as he reads the tiny, precise engraving:

Presented to Chris Kane –

A better friend than I deserve

\- Jensen Ackles

*****

Chad's jaw drops when he opens the Rolex Explorer from Jared. "Jesus Christ, Jay! No wonder you let Jenny fuck you inside out. He must be one hell of a sugar daddy."

"I have no idea how someone fucks someone else inside out," Jared replies.

Chad waves a hand in the air. "If it can be done, you two masochistic freaks will figure out how."

"We're technically not masochists."

"Whatever."

"And just for the record, I paid for this myself," Jared declares.

Chad raises an eyebrow, skepticism apparent.

"Last semester, I supervised the lab. They paid me,” Jared explains

"This take all they paid you?"

"Yup."

"Maybe I should make you _my_ sugar daddy then." Chad's words are delivered with his usual irreverence, but Jared knows him so well, he can see something else in the way he touches the watch in its box. "I'm not putting out for you though."

"Then what's in it for me?" Jared replies, not missing a beat in their usual banter.

"Free psychoanalysis for life. And trust me, you're gonna need it after you actually marry that obsessive compulsive basket case."

Jared crosses his arms over his chest, "That's my fiancé you're talking about."

"Fuck, Jay, 'fiancé', like you're giddy virgins when I only _wish_ I could erase the images of everything you've told me he does to you from my brain, but that shit's fucking wood-burned in there for all of eternity. No wonder I'm majoring in psychology. I fucking need it to have a chance at understanding whatever the fuck it is that you and Jen have."

"I think it's sweet that you want to understand," Jared smirks.

"Not 'want to', Jay, have to. You two won't fuckin' leave me alone. Gotta try to understand this cult of Jen and Jay's holy everlasting trinity of kinky gay sex that I've apparently joined without asking."

Jared watches the Chad Show in front of him. Shaking his head. He loves the guy so much, even though sometimes he wonders why. He realizes Chad's stopped talking for once. _'Whaddya know, our cult's first miracle,'_ he chuckles to himself. So he's totally unprepared when Chad looks up at him. Shit-eating grin absent.

"Seriously Jay, no one's ever given me anything this nice. Even if I were living out of my fucking car I would never hock this."

It might be one of the sweetest things Chad's ever said to him.

“Take it out,” Jared encourages him.

“Damn, Jay, that’s forward of you. I know you want me but I told you I wasn’t putting out for you,” and just like that, Chad’s back to himself.

Jared rolls his eyes. “The _watch._ ”

Chad takes it out of the box, turns it over in his hand. “You tryin’ to make me feel as old as Ackles? Could you get this font any smaller?” He squints to read:

To Chad -

My best friend,

and source of

all true wisdom.

\- Jay

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

They meet at the back of the room. No one was going to be "giving them away", though Chad had offered on Jared's behalf. If they were going to do this, Jensen thought they should walk in together as a way of honoring all the years they'd already spent becoming inextricably intertwined.

Jensen thought it was a bit silly to sleep apart the night before, but he can't deny that it only increased his craving for Jared. When he catches a glimpse of him rounding the corner, his heart jumps.

Jared's completely clean-shaven - a look he hasn't seen on him in at least two years. Lately, he'd taken to keeping a very short but neatly trimmed shadow of facial hair and Jensen had felt a bit relieved that it helped to visually smooth out the age difference between them. For that reason, Jensen had shaved too, taking his time to get it perfect this morning because he knew it made him look younger. Now he's looking at an only slightly older version of the kid he fell in love with. The kid that changed everything about his life and made it so much better than he ever imagined it could be. Jared catches his eye like he can read his mind, and grins as he approaches.

When he's right in front of him, he smiles a bit shyly through his bangs and Jensen can't help but reach up to touch the smoothness of his cheek.

"You like it?" Jared asks with a bit of reservation and Jensen's done counting the minutes until they can be together again, having spent the night allowing himself only one hand job before banning all thoughts of Jared's mouth on his cock from his brain and trying to sleep. Jared closes his eyes and Jensen caresses his face.

"You look like - " it's like Jensen can't find the words.

"Like I used to?" Jared offers.

Jensen nods, his eyes bottomless pools of green desire. "You look like the kid I fell in love with," he whispers as he pulls Jared down for a kiss, wrapping a strong arm around his waist and pulling him close. Before pulling him in, he’d taken time to appreciate everything about how Jared looks. His black tux pants are the perfect length on his long legs, black, shining dress ankle boots, his black jacket in matte wool with a slight stretch and sheen of satin at the lapels, pristine and tailored to a T to fit his broad, muscled shoulders. Jensen notices that Jared also chose a necktie, not entirely unlike his old school uniform tie - dark green like Jensen's eyes - in lieu of a bowtie and Jensen takes his hand from Jared's face, still kissing him softly, wraps it around the tie, and tugs a little, resulting in a stifled groan from Jared. Jensen smiles against Jared's lips. "And I love the tie," he growls.

The sharp jolt from the tug on his tie seems to bring Jared back to reality. "We'd better get in there, right? People are waiting - "

Jensen kisses him hard, releases the tie, and takes a step back, allowing Jared to readjust the Windsor knot in the dark green silk and really take a good look at him.

Of course Jensen looks impeccable. His charcoal gray mid-weight wool suit fits him like a glove. Crisp white shirt and a vest over that with a bluish-gray tie he chose because it contained just a few of the colors in Jared's hazel eyes. Black dress shoes polished to gleaming. Glasses perfectly clean and perfectly straight, framing his incredible eyes and long lashes. Jared pulls in a breath. "You are fucking gorgeous," he says low, awe in his voice. "I can't believe I get to have this with you," and Jared's voice cracks a bit as he ducks his head.

Jensen steps right back in front of him, lifting his chin and looking up into his eyes. "I feel exactly the same way." He gazes intensely into those shifting currents of hazel as Jared bites his lip and pulls himself back together, ending with a smile, the kind that lights up the world as far as Jensen's concerned. How in the hell did he get this fucking lucky? He'll never know.

Jensen moves to stand next to Jared and checks his watch. The music should be starting right about - he hears the first strains of a string quartet version of George Michael’s “Praying for Time”. The song they discussed so long ago, one of the first times Jared came to (and at) Jensen’s house. It’s been part of the soundtrack of their life together ever since and cuts straight to Jensen’s heart.

Jared grabs his hand and squeezes when he recognizes the first few bars. " _Jensen,”_ is all he can say.

Jensen offers an arm to Jared, but Jared intertwines their fingers instead. They are _together_. That's how they're going to walk in there. They're legal. They filed the marriage certificate last week. Dammit, he's going to hold Jensen's hand. He feels Jensen lift their linked hands to his lips, kissing the back of Jared's, then locks eyes with him over the top of his glasses. Jensen looks resolute. It erases any doubt Jared may have harbored about Jensen's reasons for doing this. In that one glance he sees, without question, that he's not just doing this for Jared. It means something to him too.

The strings swell and they push open the double doors leading to the outdoor patio overlooking the California hills. It's a beautiful, sunny day with the occasional cloud to soften the glare. They chose late afternoon and the hills will go from flat pastel to golden during the short ceremony.

They walk hand in hand, past multiple, identical, sleek, three-foot tall vases of cascading greenery lining what is now an aisle. Jensen's not the flower type, or the raucous color type. He had to hand it to Grit. He could not have done better if he'd chosen every stem himself. She had listened to them, taking copious notes, and he marveled at the perfection - yes, _perfection_ \- of the shades of green spilling from the tall charcoal vases - gorgeous, subtle variations in tone and texture – gray-green to near-chartreuse to deep as a primeval forest - gorgeous _details_ when you looked closely, and he planned to do just that later when they came back out for drinks and dancing under the stars. It also created a subtle, pristine, complete picture - the repetition of the vases appealing completely to his slight (he admits) OCD.

Jared smiles when he sees Chris and Chad standing to the left and right of center near the patio railing. Chad's positively beaming at him. That says a lot about how much he cares, considering he and Sandy just split a month ago and he's still healing. Jared wondered whether putting Chad through a wedding right now was a good idea, but he seems to be handling it well.

Jensen catches Chris' eye and sees the pure pride there. Chris had told him as much before dropping him off at his hotel after dinner last night. Told him he was proud of him for growing like this - for bending his strict rules for Jared, for having a wedding so that the people who love them could celebrate the monumental, perhaps unlikely achievement that is Jared and Jensen. Even called him a freakin' trailblazer. While far from the first gay couple to marry in California, they were still in new territory. The court challenges to the legalization were already mounting and Chris thought it was brave, especially for Jensen, to go through with it. Jensen brushed his words off, but Chris could tell he was listening and taking in everything he was saying. He knew Jensen wouldn't _do_ this at all if his words weren't true.

When they reach the railing, Jensen releases Jared's hand and hugs his friend. Chad almost squeezes the breath out of Jared in an overly-enthusiastic embrace at the same time.

Chris puts a hand on either side of Jensen's face and looks at him, giving one cheek a small, reassuring pat before walking to the center of the head of the aisle. Chris became a certified _("More like ‘certifiable’ for doing this,"_ Jensen had teased him) ordained minister in order to perform the ceremony and Jensen again had to wonder at the dedication of his best friend.

As soon as they're facing each other, Jared's hands grab for Jensen’s again and he takes them firmly in his own. Chris begins the ceremony the way Jensen requested. No "dearly beloved". Jared had teased him while they were planning, asking if he preferred, "Friends, Romans, Countrymen" and pointing out that they couldn't use "Fourscore and seven years ago" because they hadn’t been together for 20 years yet. Jensen tolerated the teasing. At least he didn’t have to endure one thousand suggestions for ceremony wording from Chad.

"There are some forces in the universe that cannot be denied. We're here today to celebrate one of those. Something that defies probability, but results in a whole that is much greater than the sum of its parts..."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Jensen looks piercingly into Jared’s eyes, promising with every ounce of sincerity in his body to “love, honor, and protect” him even though it may seem odd to their guests that someone as strapping as Jared would ever need protection. But that’s not the kind of protection he’s talking about and Jared knows it. He’s pledging with these words to protect Jared’s heart – the heart that probably needed protecting _from_ Jensen at the start. He’ll always regret hurting Jared and almost letting him slip away for good. _Thank fucking God_ that Jared gave him a second chance, even if he didn’t deserve it, too hardened and blind back then to believe he could ever have this.

His pulse races when he hears Jared respond that he pledges to “love, honor,” and he takes a short pause, fighting back a smile, trying to keep the moment solemn, “and obey” him as long as he lives. Jensen’s stomach flips at that. Jared saying it right there in front of everyone. _Knowing_ what it does to him.

“What the universe has brought together and we have joined here today for all time, let no man put asunder,” Chris proclaims, smile on his face. Adding in his own mind, ‘ _Cause Jensen will fucking kill anyone who tries’_. “Jared, Jensen, I pronounce you married.” He leans forward and whispers so only Jared and Jensen can hear, “You may continue to do whatever you want with each other.”

Chris’ aside was quiet, but not quiet enough, because Chad takes the opportunity to lean in and whisper, “Amen, you two freaks in pod.”

_‘Is our sex life up for discussion by everyone now?’_ Jensen thinks to himself. He really has to stop sharing so much with Chris. As far as Jared holding back with Chad goes, he’s pretty sure that ship has sailed.

Jensen flat out laughs. _‘Ballsy motherfuckers,_ ’ he thinks. His eyes dance as he watches Jared chuckle in return. It feels so right to put his arms around Jared’s waist, here, in front of everyone, and kiss him, with just a tiny nip of teeth on Jared’s lower lip as they part, just to make him gasp. Apparently he has a reputation to live up to.

_There’s a Godammed preposition again._

The applause from their guests surprises him. When his lips are on Jared’s, the world disappears. He lets their cheers pull him back to the warm California evening and he thinks maybe he might actually have been wrong about weddings.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

"What are you finding in there?" Jared startles him, wrapping his strong arms around Jensen's waist from behind. The patio is awash in soft white lights strung between the tree branches at its perimeter. The vases that formed the aisle have been arranged in a welcoming horseshoe pattern around the open area for dancing and the chairs from the ceremony line the stone railing.

Dinner had been delicious. Succulent filet mignon he could cut with a fork, perfectly complimented by a rich, earthy, wine-tinged truffle reduction. Jared's favorite fresh organic picked-that-morning mixed green salad - a signature dish at the club - with perfectly ripe, juicy blood orange sections and vinegar-sweet dressing. There were fire-roasted root vegetables. There was gourmet four-cheese macaroni and cheese – a surprise for Jared who couldn’t hide his delight when the hot, gooey bowl of heaven, baked in its own individual serving dish, was placed next to him. Sometimes it’s difficult for Jensen to remember that Jared’s only 21, except when he and Chad are wrestling over the TV remote. That and the fact that he still fosters a college kid’s undying love for mac and cheese. There were loaves of crusty baguette, fresh from the club's European brick bread oven. And that was after the fruit and antipasto trays that came before, loaded down with the best imported and small-batch artisan local cheeses and cured meats.

The flourless chocolate cake, chosen by Jensen, with just a hint of cinnamon had been sinful in its intensity; even more so when tasting it on Jared's tongue when he kissed him after the first swallow. The alternate choice of velvety lemon pound cake with vanilla bean glaze, chosen by Jared, countered the deep chocolate of Jensen’s pick. Both were unexpectedly rich in their subtle complexity. The elegant confections, alternating dark and light in separate sleek, modern tiers, were offset slightly on the specially-made cake stand and simply decorated with sugar frosted berries.

The wine was expensive and intoxicating. Overhead pendant lights were dimmed and candles in precise, perfectly-spaced, rows down the center of every table made everything and everyone glow.

Jensen gives up on examining the greenery.

"It's all -" Jensen leans back against Jared's solid chest.

"Perfect?" Jared finishes.

"Yes. It's perfect."

"You're perfect." Jared turns Jensen in his arms and leans down to kiss him. Wine-infused mouth, warm lips. “Perfect for me.”

Chris' toast had been heartfelt and the slightest bit teasing, gently bringing up a few of Jensen’s past relationship fails from their teenage years, all done in good fun. Jensen always lets a little teasing slide when it comes to Chris.

When Chad took the microphone, Jensen whispered to Jared, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Not in the least," Jared whispered back.

But Chad somehow managed to keep the profanity out of it. Jared didn't know Chad even knew how to _talk_ without using “fuck” as his favorite adjective. And verb. And noun. Chad had their guests, and even Jensen, laughing until they had to wipe tears from their eyes.

Jared’s sister Megan stood to say a few words about how happy she was that her big brother had found a partner in life that he obviously loved so deeply, and that she could see that love was returned tenfold by Jensen. She wholeheartedly welcomed him into the family, said he was her brother now too, and her incredible sincerity cut the last of his skepticism to shreds.

It had been an emotionally intense day, and Jensen's escape was out here with Grit's impeccably-chosen greenery.

Jared rests his arms on Jensen's shoulders, Jensen's hands instinctively circle Jared's waist. They melt into each other and sway to the music drifting onto the patio from the live band at the reception. “Blind” by Lifehouse. That song. That song Jensen thought he'd never be able to listen to again when it looked like their time together may not last past Jared's high school graduation. But it _did_ last. Jensen pulls Jared close, bodies merging as much as they can with several layers of dress clothes between them. Jensen presses a kiss to his neck, a hardening promise for later felt between them too.

“I remember when this song made me want to slit my wrists,” Jared admits, a bit of unease in his voice.

“That’s why I asked the band to play it,” Jensen replies.

“Not really a time I like to remember,” Jared confesses, slightly confused.

“I promised to protect you,” Jensen says against his neck. “I won’t let anything hurt you. No one. Definitely not a song. Definitely not me. Never again.” Jensen looks up at him. “When I had them play this at the prom, I was trying to hurt you. I’m so ashamed of that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Jared replies softly.

  
Jensen continues, “I don’t want one of my worst moments to be what you remember every time you hear it.”

Jared looks down at him, eyes warm. “And now every time I hear it I’ll think of this. This perfect moment right now.”

Jensen nods, “That’s the hope.”

Celebrating with those they love ended up meaning more than they could have imagined, but this is what they need the most. Two of them. Together. Completing some kind of cosmic equation. Irreversibly entangled.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

They enter the hotel room and Jared can see Jensen immediately relax his posture in the spare, open, uncluttered space, just the way he knew he would when he chose the place for them. Jensen's OCD has always been mitigated by order and Jared wants him to be as comfortable as possible here. It's a two-room suite with a living area and a sizeable California King bedroom - Jared made sure of that. Lately, the show Mad Men has been catching fire and it seems like all things mid century modern are chic again - good thing, because that kind of sparse design sits very well with Jensen.

Jensen turns and rewards him with a smile. "I love it," he says, walking back towards Jared. He reaches up and pulls him down firmly by the jaw for the kind of kiss he wanted to give him out on the dance floor, but was far too dirty to share in front of their guests. He claims Jared's mouth and Jared responds with equal intensity before pulling away with some effort.

Jensen grasps at the air when he goes to pull Jared back against him and he raises a slightly threatening eyebrow at his, his, okay this is fucking weird, his _husband_ who's stepping back and putting space between them only by sheer force of will.

Jared takes a deep breath. "I think you should check out the bedroom," he suggests.

Why? Jensen's slightly curious, but he'd rather continue enjoying what they were just doing. "We have plenty of time for that," Jensen replies, taking a step towards Jared. Again, Jared takes a step back. "Don't fuck with me." A slightly irritated note creeps into Jensen's voice. He’s been wanting to get Jared alone and completely to himself all night. He’d never seen him look better than he did today. That, combined with the day’s uncharacteristic displays of emotion, make him desperate to be skin-on-skin with his…will he ever get used to this?... _husband._ This is bordering on cruel and unusual punishment. And not the good kind.

"I swear I'm not," Jared replies, and, just to kick it up a notch, "Sir."

Jensen's eyes go dark at that. "Are you trying to kill me?" he asks, voice turning a bit dangerous.

"Go. Check out the bedroom," Jared insists. "You can take it out of me later," he promises.

This finally brings a small, reluctant smile to Jensen's face and since he can see that Jared is not going to budge, he slowly, deliberately, unbuttons his jacket, removes it, carefully hangs it in the hotel closet, smoothes his hands down over his vest, and turns to check out the bedroom. The sooner he does, apparently, the sooner he can be pressed naked against Jared.

He opens the door and his eyes immediately fly to the one thing that so clearly does not belong. The metal-framed bedside tables are sleek and retro-modern, the bed is huge, one large deep blue armchair with low mid-century style arms sits to one side, clean pendant light over the headboard, and right at the foot of the bed there's a dated, beaten, scarred yellow oak desk. Jensen spins around, eyes as big as saucers, and is greeted by Jared, close behind him, smiling like he won the lottery.

"Is this -?" Jensen turns sideways to he can maintain eye contact, but he reaches out to touch the marred surface of the desktop, drawn to it like a magnet, brushing his fingers across it as if it were made of delicate crystal. "How in the hell did you -?"

Jared’s extremely pleased at Jensen's loss for words. That's a rare thing and he knows it means he hit a home run.

He moves in behind Jensen, "It is," he confirms. "It's our desk."

Jared's stunned by how quickly he finds himself shoved up against the sturdy oak, ass colliding with the edge, Jensen pressing in between his legs which have no choice but to open for him before he's attacked by Jensen's mouth, Jensen's hands pulling Jared's jacket from his shoulders and tossing it carelessly on the floor. Jensen pulls back, lips dark from the intense kiss, "How?" is all he asks.

"You still donate to the school," Jared tries to get out between kisses, "Well, one of the newsletters we get, because, _oh fuck_ , you know, because you donate - "

"We get newsletters?" Jensen mumbles.

"Yes," kiss, "we do," tongue, " Ugh, in the mail." Jared just gives up in favor of returning Jensen's attention.

"Huh," Jensen muses, eyes on Jared's lips whenever they break.

"One of 'em we got last year," Jared struggles ahead, "said they were going to remodel and I asked what they were going to do with the old furniture."

Jensen pulls back, astonished, "Last year? You've been keeping this the whole time?"

Jared blushes a bit at being found out. "Chad kept it in his garage for me. Said, if I can remember right, 'How long do I have to store this giant sex toy for you two freaks?' and ‘Only you two would have a sex toy the size of a Smart Car’ and then he had a few choice words about how it's probably some kind of 'fucking biohazard' but how maybe he and Sandy would have to give it a try, seeing as how that desk wrecked his best friend for sex with any other human being for life."

Jensen's lips quirk up at the corners of his mouth. "He wouldn't dare," he threatens. “You know, with Sandy.”

"Don't worry, I did have it cleaned," Jared reassures him. "I'm sure he was just yanking my chain."

Jensen raises an eyebrow, mind going to an image of that statement taken literally.

"Stop it; you know what I mean. He said he'd treat it like 'some holy gay relic' until I needed it."

"How long were you planning on keeping it a secret?" Jensen asks with a bit of reproach that goes straight to Jared's cock.

"I didn't really have a date in mind," Jared smiles, slightly coy, "I was just saving it for something special."

"And you'd know it was special how?" Jensen asks.

"When you surprised me," Jared admits. "When you did something for me that I didn't expect and I wanted to do the same for you."

Jensen can't believe how much sense that makes.

Jared drapes an arm across each of Jensen's shoulders, lacing his fingers together behind Jensen’s head, and lets them linger there, almost casually. "So, Mr. Ackles," he knows exactly what he's doing and knows Jensen's cock must be getting hard inside his dress pants, "I don't think I completely understood your last lesson." He drops his head and lets his bangs fall in front of his eyes and _fuck_ _he’s so sexy_ , "I think I could benefit from some tutoring." He slowly, deliberately, licks his tongue across his top lip. "And I _do_ have someone in mind for that."

Jared waits, hoping the display is enough and pretty sure that it is.

Jensen's brain is at war with his body. Jared has no idea how unfair this is - pushing all of his possessive, dominant buttons when it goes exactly in direct opposition of what he has planned. This might just actually kill him.

Jared's hopeful expression fades as he watches Jensen's face and he knows the look the finds there. The one where he's using all of his practiced control to not attack. _Not_ take what he wants. To wait. And why the fuck would he want to wait? Jared's about to do something truly evil. He wants Jensen so badly he can taste it. He's about to suggest that perhaps he should find someone else to tutor him. Craves him to such a degree that he's willing to gamble on playing the jealousy card.

But before he can do that, Jensen says quietly, "I have something for you too." Jared can see he's got himself under control again, but can't quite keep the hint of nervous energy out of his voice. He picks up on it immediately, wondering why Jensen would be nervous now. _After_ they made it through the public ceremony and the party. ‘ _Why now?’_

Jensen ignores his rock hard cock. Damn, Jared knows exactly how to wind him up and is he really that easily manipulated? _‘Fuck, yes.’_ He has to do what he planned though or he fears he'll never have the guts to go through with it. He feels his hand shake a bit as he pulls a small box from his vest pocket, new platinum wedding ring rapping against the side with an unexpected knock.

Jared watches him closely. He's starting to get a bit worried. Jensen really looks almost scared. A complete 180 from a few minutes ago. What in the world could be doing this to him?

Without any explanation, Jensen holds out the box. Jared takes it and apprehensively opens it.

Inside, on a chain, there's a silver key. Jared smiles and looks up at Jensen. "I think I know what this looks like a key to," he says with a knowing tone. In spite of his current tense state, Jensen starts to open his mouth but Jared cuts him off, "I know I just ended a sentence with a preposition," and Jensen stays quiet because of course that's what he was going to say. "But Jensen, you know I love my collar. You know what it means to me. You didn't have to get me another one."

Jensen does not look at all relived. "You're right; it's for a collar. But it's not a collar you'll be wearing."

Jared's brow knits in confusion.

Jensen take a deep breath and exhales slowly. "I've been thinking about this for a long time," he begins to explain. "This key is for you. _You_ wear the key," and Jensen stares holes into him, letting it sink in.

Jared's brain races to catch up. If the key is for him, then... _holy fuck_. "But Jensen, I love our relationship the way it is. With your permission," and he sees how the word makes the pulse increase in Jensen's neck, "I'd like to keep it that way."

Jensen relaxes minutely at the incredibly beautiful truth - how well-suited they are to each other and just how amazing that is. "I love things the way they are too,” he agrees. “Nothing means more than the way you give yourself over to me without any reservations." Jensen takes another deep breath. "I'm not saying this will happen often. I don't know if it _can_ happen often," he looks guiltily up at Jared. "But I trust you Jared, like I've never trusted another soul. That's what this means to me - I want you to know that I trust you completely."

At that, Jared's eyes fill and he tries to blink the tears away. Jensen has to bite his lower lip to keep from joining him.

"Show me," Jared says in a small voice.

Jensen nods, walks to the nightstand, and opens the drawer where he'd asked Chris to leave the box. He sighs with relief when he sees the charcoal gray leather. He can always count on Chris to do whatever he requests of him, no questions asked. He pulls it from the drawer and carries it over to Jared, lays it down on the bed between them, and clicks open the lid.

Gray like the suit he was just married in, leather with a deep burgundy lining and a sliver clasp. A silver ring attached.

Jared reaches in to pick it up with trembling hands. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks Jensen.

"I'm sure," Jensen replies.

"You _want_ to belong to me like this?" Jared asks tentatively. "You know you have a choice."

Jensen shrinks a bit under the incredible intensity in Jared's eyes. He swallows hard and gets his courage up, returning the gravity of Jared’s gaze when he says "I've belonged to you since the first day you walked into my class," and that's the absolute truth. There's never been anyone else for him, before or since. He continues, because Jared looks like he’s not totally convinced of Jensen's intentions, "You know this isn't the role I'm usually attracted to - "

"Jensen, I don't expect anything like this - "

"Let me finish. It's not something I would want to do with anyone else. _Anyone_. You know me better than any other person on this planet and you taught me how to take risks. For me, this is the biggest risk." Jensen keeps their eyes locked as Jared nods in agreement. "But I trust that you know how far to push me. Fuck, you're the only one who knows what I need."

Jared's eyes are welling up again.

Jensen starts to methodically unbutton his vest, then his shirt, loosening his tie as he goes. He removes all three and lays them aside. Wearing only dress pants, he takes another deep breath. "You too," he instructs, and Jared sheds his shirt and loosened tie as quickly as possible.

Jensen reaches out and plucks the key on the chain from the small box. Jared silently lifts up the back of his hair and Jensen reaches around to fasten it, satisfied when he sits back and sees it hanging flat against the muscles of Jared's sculpted chest. No doubt it's already warming to the temperature of his body. The chain length is perfect; precisely framing the shorter, choker-length chain with the small padlock nestled in the hollow of Jared’s throat that he never takes off – except when he’s wearing his _actual_ collar – as an everyday reminder of the person he chose to belong to with his own free will. Jared reflexively brings up a hand to touch it, then reaches his other hand out to touch the twin key that never leaves Jensen's neck.

"I'll never take this off," Jared swears. And he feels as bound to Jensen as he can possibly be. Bits of Jensen, signs of him encircling so many points on his body; new key and padlock choker around his neck, bracelet around his wrist, new matching platinum band seated comfortably on his finger.

Jensen can't keep his own eyes from burning. He nods solemnly as a tear slips out. He rushes to wipe it off, pure reflex, but Jared stops him. "Don't," Jared says, his own cheekbones wet, and moves in to lick it away. Jensen sighs, finally relaxing, sure that Jared fully comprehends what he's offering.

"Put it on me?" Jensen asks.

Jared's the one with the shaking hands now as he opens the collar and fastens it securely around Jensen's neck with a sharp click of the lock. A narrow, black, stitched leather strip coils next to the place in the box where the collar will be

kept. Jared runs his hand over it.

Jensen thought he might panic when the collar closed around his throat. He's more surprised than anyone when the click of the lock seems to clear his mind. It blows away his thoughts and leaves him feeling open and clean. Decisions aren't his to worry about anymore. It’s so strange and so new. He knows his own heart and mind, and he knows he won't want to make himself this vulnerable very often. He's not even promising that it'll happen more than once; more than just tonight; but he never would have guessed that the constricting band on his neck would make him feel oddly free. It’s completely unexpected, the way the leather acts as some kind of demarcation line, symbolically cutting off his overactive brain from the rest of his body - leaving it ready to receive.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” Jared breathes out. Dark leather standing out in sharp contrast against Jensen’s pale skin, somehow the deep gray of the collar highlights the dark green of his eyes. "I can't believe you're giving this to me," he says in a whisper.

"Only you," Jensen's voice is near breaking. "Always only you."

Jared's eyes are overflowing and the impact settles in the center of Jensen’s chest, pierced by the depth of Jared’s emotion. He fights down the urge to immediately wipe the tears away, or kiss them out of existence because now he knows he's not the one deciding what to do next and it's weird as hell. He quietly clears his throat, "Permission to touch you," followed by a long pause, the word so hot but so incredibly foreign in his own throat, "Sir?" he asks. He studies Jared's face and sees him breath in what might a stifled sob, close his eyes briefly, and nod.

Jensen reaches up and strokes a thumb under Jared's wet eyelashes, bringing it back to his own mouth to taste. Jared opens his eyes, watches Jensen suck the salt from his own finger. Jensen can read him like a book, the collar doesn't change that, and Jensen sees his eyes starting to clear, focused on Jensen's mouth, his tongue, his lips, knows it's turning Jared on and that’s overpowering his emotions.

"I know what you need," Jared tells him, voice steady now. "I promise I'm going to give you what you need. I'll never betray your trust."

"I know," Jensen replies quietly. "Whatever you want," he looks down briefly, then back up into Jared's eyes with love and a touch of steely determination. "I'm yours."

On the surface it looks like Jensen is giving up his own needs for Jared's, but Jared understands down to his core that he’s calling the shots _for_ Jensen. He's glad they didn't try this any sooner because it's taken him this many years to really and truly understand what Jensen needs. What he needs _and_ what he's afraid to let himself have.

"What I want," Jared carefully slides a finger up under Jensen's collar and uses that one finger to pull him close by the neck. He feels Jensen gasp in surprise, "is for you to leave your dress pants on, and fuck me over our desk - like you did when you were my teacher." It's exactly what Jensen's been dying to do since Jared revealed the desk. Of course it is. Jared knows him like no one else.

Jared tugs again, lips meeting forcefully, tongue surging into Jensen's mouth, sudden, powerful...aggressive. He realizes that Jared's finger has moved to the back of the collar and suddenly he's kissing at the air as Jared pulls him back by the neck, looking him right in the eyes. "But first, you're gonna stand there and watch me get ready for you."

Jensen almost swallows his tongue.

"And there's one more thing," Jared has an expression of weight, as if Jensen's ability to do this or not hangs on his next words. "You're going to fuck me over this desk, as hard as I want you to fuck me, and when your cock is ready to explode, you're gonna let that happen," pause, "without me coming first."

Jensen's cock throbs and his brain screams. "I don't know if I can do that," he confesses. Feeling like he may have already failed at this experiment.

"Oh, you can," Jared says with finality. "And you will, Mr. Ackles."

And seriously, Jared doing this to him? How does he know how to push every single fucking button? Using his surname in the same breath where he just told him to do the one thing that goes against his every instinct – ordered to put his own body's needs first. He feels like he got punched in the gut with an impossible request, then tongue fucked to rock hard when Jared addressed him the way he just did.

Jensen's jolted out of his thoughts by the rumble of a wooden desk drawer. Jared's opening it up, pulling out a bottle of lube. Sets it carefully in the center of the desk. Turns to face Jensen and starts undoing his pants. He's showing off. The way he used to when they were alone in Jensen’s classroom. He feels like he's going to combust as Jared's pants fall to the floor and he bends to pick them up, neatly folding them, then peels out of his boxer briefs and...something's different. Jensen stares. Jared's cock is full and flushed and long, porn star proportions like always, but something looks lighter and...oh... _oh holy fuck_.

His face wasn’t the only thing he shaved.

Jensen's expression betrays the wave of lust that surges through his body and Jared smiles up at him. Jensen knows he's completely fucked here. He has no interest in boys. That's not it at all. But he _does_ have an interest in the way Jared looked when he first fell in love with him. He had less body hair back then and Jensen feels like he just stepped out of a fucking time machine and into a hotel room version of his physics classroom, complete with a younger clone of the man he just married.

He watches, rooted to the floor, as Jared gives his own cock a long stroke, then plays with his balls. The full, heavy cock and balls of a grown man, the man he loves now, but shaved into oblivion to look like an extremely well-endowed teenager and it's screwing with Jensen's head and his heart and his own cock in ways he never in a million years expected. He loves Jared as he is now and he's not much for looking back, or sentimentality, but somehow, this teenage/adult Jared mirage in front of him is real and scorching and putting on a show, throwing his head back, hair rippling to his shoulders, one hand braced against the desk - their desk - their actual fucking desk where it all started - and the other working his own cock.

He watches Jared's head pull up and make eye contact before grinning like sin, turning around, planting his feet, pouring lube over his hand, reaching back, and shoving three fingers inside his own body to start - the way he did at Jensen's house that day, showing him what he'd done in the gym shower while he thought about him.

Jensen's dress pants feel cool against his cock and he just knows he's soaking them with this desire he cannot hold back. Even if he could, he won't, because he's been _told_ not to and it's such a fucked up thing; being in control by losing control - obeying Jared by disobeying some of his own rules that help him make sense of life.

Jensen's cock is tenting out his dress pants as much as the fabric will allow and he's aching with need, to get his hands on Jared's tanned skin, to taste him and mark him, but he doesn't dare move. He _chose_ this. He's determined not to break or fail or give in.

But it's absolute torture. Jared's rolling his hips and his long fingers are plunging into his body and emerging slick with lube. Braced on one arm, palm flat on the desk, he leans forward and fucks his own fingers until a flush starts to creep across his back and he's grunting, sometimes moaning, showing Jensen everything and he really deserves to be punished for putting it on display like that, but Jensen, hyper -aware of the caressing collar locked around his neck, can't do anything about it. And he's been ordered not to hold back his own orgasm, but he can already feel it trying to build. Jesus Christ, what if he comes in his pants? What if –

"Mr. Ackles!"

Jared's voice cracks like a whip and Jensen snaps to attention. "Attach that leash to your collar and throw the other end to me." Jared's breathless, flushed, and somehow still in control. Facing Jensen now, leaning against the edge of the desk. Legs slightly spread, cock rigid.

The leash slips from Jensen's hands twice before he's able to clip it to the ring on the collar, trying his best to hide his embarrassment at the wrecked state of his dress pants, precome darkening the front, turning the charcoal from gray to black over his cock.

He tosses one end to Jared.

Jared catches it gracefully, turns his back to Jensen, and gives a gentle tug. Nowhere near enough to throw him off his feet, but enough for Jensen to know he means business. The leash pulls Jensen to within inches of Jared’s back, but he stops short of touching, pure longing tearing through him from his head to his toes. Jared must know how much this is killing him.

Jared looks straight ahead and says, "Now fuck me like you wanted to fuck me that first day I walked into your class."

Jared gives him a second to unzip, then tugs sharply. It pulls Jensen against Jared's back and finally, he finally gets to touch that skin. In this ill-fitting role reversal, Jared's skin feels like a reunion with something he knows intimately, understands innately, and it grounds him. His fear starts to ease with the familiar smell and feel of Jared under his hands and it's pure safety. Jared's the key and the last pin tumbler falls into place in the lock of his mind, breaking him open. He can do this. He can give Jared whatever he asks.

He knows Jared's already open and slick - the way he was fucking his own fingers was criminal. Jensen’s afraid to even _touch_ his own cock - he's so oversensitive. Instead, he firmly grasps Jared by the hips, flexes his knees slightly, and shoves inside all at once. Jared cries out and falls forward, catching himself on his elbows, the leash pulls Jensen with him, down onto Jared's back, and it forces Jensen deep. So deep. Hot, wet, Jared's body envelops him like a custom made glove and he can't hold back the "Oh fuck, Jay" that slips past his lips.

"Permission to use my nickname," Jared groans, "Granted." And Jensen blushes at his slip-up.

"Thought about this the first time, _fuck_ , first time I saw you," Jared tries to crane his neck around to speak. "Wanted you to want me as badly as I wanted you."

Jensen feels his cock connect with Jared's prostate, gives a few shallow thrusts of strong, precise stimulation, and Jared struggles to keep talking.

"Wanted you to want me so badly that you didn't wanna take time to get undressed - just had to pull out that big cock of yours, through the zipper of your dress pants you always taught in, and make me scream against this desk. Jesus Christ, Jensen," Jared swears, then, unbelievably, "Harder. Fuck me harder. Do it." Jensen feels a tug on the leash against the collar he momentarily forgot he was wearing. It’s hotter than he ever could have imagined.

Jensen speeds up, Jared's body stripping his cock, and he'd shove his balls inside Jared if he could. "Give me your hand," Jared grates out and grabs Jensen's offered wrist, pulling it forward, fitting the "V" between his thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock. With no hair, Jared's skin is on fire there. Almost burning to the touch. "Feel like I used to?" he asks.

"Jesus fuck, yes," Jensen finds his voice. Tries to move to stroke Jared, but Jared's hand over his pins his palm in place, framing the base of his cock. The hard thickness of him filling the space between thumb and forefinger.

"I was 18 and this was all I could think about. You fucking me like this."

Jensen groans.

"So fucking hot," Jared growls. The next deep thrust punches a grunt from him, answered by an aborted cry from Jensen, and then Jared says, "You know, Mr. Ackles, someone could have opened your classroom door."

The comment explodes in Jensen's ear. Jensen’s fucked Jared, been blown by Jared, serviced by Jared in every way he can think of at the fetish club in front of at least a combined 200 people over the dozen or so times they've gone there. They both get off on it, save it for special occasions, but getting _caught_ is something completely different.

"Ever think about principal Sheppard unlocking the door while you were fucking me?" Jared asks, breathless, wicked edge to his voice. "He had keys to all the rooms."

And it _had_ been something Jensen thought about when he'd first touched Jared in his classroom after-hours. He knew then that what he was doing was so incredibly reckless, putting his entire career in danger, but from the start, that's what Jared did to him. Threatened to overwhlem his carefully-crafted control. Made him do things that _were_ risky as hell and, and, _fuck, Jared feels so good_. So hot, surrounding him so completely, stroking every inch of his cock with the vise of his body like it was made specifically to hold him. He feels the incredible warmth - heat from the collar around his neck, heat around his swelling, surging cock, heat inside his own chest where his heart expands, heat of the smooth skin of Jared's clean-shaven balls pressed beneath his palm, the palm he's using to push Jared deep onto his cock with every thrust, the warm smell of his skin, remnants of body wash used up by the day and now it's unadulterated Jared, purifying sweat and sunlight, stretched out in front of him, the sound of Jared's voice pouring over him like honey, telling him things that turn him on in the deepest recesses of his mind and Jared's the only one who could ever overtake all of his senses like this.

"Principal Sheppard, _oh fuck_ , could have unlocked the door. Could have walked in on us."

Jensen's balls contract at the thought, just about ready to blow.

"What would have happened to us if he'd seen me cleaning your desk off like I did that first time -"

The pressure is exquisite around Jensen's cock as he pounds into Jared.

"Licking it clean, and I never even asked you if I could do that, _oh, God_ ," split second pause, "Mr. Ackles."

Jared's words overwhelm him, the memory he still jerks off to drags him under. The powerful image seared into his brain of the most gorgeous kid he'd ever seen licking his own come from the surface of the desk. _This_ desk. _This_ clean-shaven man in front of him who knows him so well now that it's both terrifying and exhilarating. Reassuring and nerve-wracking. Bound so tightly to Jared - invisible ties to his soul and the very real tie of the leash running from his neck to Jared's powerful grip. Jared cleaning the desk of come with his tongue was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and it’s as if Jared, at 18, instinctively knew how to make him lose control.

The memories of Jared flood in; no boundaries, no limits, not just following Jensen's orders but always willing to go a step further...sun-kissed hair, sculpted shoulders, perfect ass, wicked tongue, insatiable, trusting, _trusting, trusting him, trust Jared -_

So he does.

His orgasm rips through him like a shotgun blast. Jared allows him to slide his hand from his groin to grasp his hip and Jensen digs in his fingers as his cock convulses, the release taking everything he has - all of it flowing into Jared - the craving, the need, the yielding of control, the trust, the love - he's not holding back any of it and, set free, it rushes towards home, inside Jared, the source of his reason for living.

Jensen lets it go completely. Shoots deep with harsh, brutal thrusts and he's drowning in it, only vaguely aware of Jared telling him how incredible it feels, how good he is, how no one else can fuck him like he needs to be fucked - like this.

The tension on the leash goes slack as Jensen's cock twitches the last rivulets into Jared, barely moving now. Peace washes through him and from somewhere that seems far away, he thinks he hears something. He tries to concentrate his blissfully floating brain and the sounds start to take form.

"Now."

_What now?_

"On your knees. Jensen, get on your knees."

He's empty. Everything he had is somewhere inside Jared. He can't reason or do anything but follow the press of Jared's fingers on his collar, facing him now and pushing him down. Jensen absentmindedly registers the come on his cock ruining the thigh of his dress pants as his knees sink into the thick four star hotel carpet.

Small tug on his chin. "Open," Jared commands, breathless and firm.

So he does.

Jared's rock hard length fills his mouth, then his throat, and that feels right too. He's empty and now Jared's filling him. It makes sense somehow. He feels exposed, safe, and free. The relaxation in his body extends to his throat and he doesn't gag, even though Jared's huge, he just welcomes him, like Jared just knocked down a door and there's no barrier there anymore. No resistance. No reason to resist.

Jared has a palm on the back of Jensen’s head and he's fucking his mouth relentlessly. As Jensen starts to drift back into his body, back to awareness, he marvels at Jared's strength. That powerful body that is usually freely and willingly completely given over to him, given so effortlessly that sometimes Jensen forgets just how strong Jared really is. Jared's _owning_ his strength right now in the same way he’s _owning_ Jensen’s mouth and his throat is gonna be raw from the controlled assault and he can't fucking wait. The gift of Jared's surrender in their usual roles made all the more stunning by this display of his true physical power. Jensen manages to close his lips around Jared's length. The grounding beacon of Jared's voice snaps from static to stereo in his ears.

"Fuck, Jensen, your throat, so perfect," and Jensen finally lifts his searching eyes to meet Jared's blistering gaze. More than blistering, it's positively ablaze, hair swinging in rhythm with his deep thrusts.

Jared’s intensity laser-focused on him, he pushes the tip of his tongue towards the roof of his mouth, creating a hard point of friction on the underside of Jared's cock and Jared white knuckles the edge of the desk he's leaning against. Jensen adds as much suction as he can manage, brings one hand up to roll Jared's balls in his palm and is slammed back into the immediacy of right now at the feel of the smooth, hairless, incendiary skin of Jared’s full sack. Back to the brain-bending present/past of the large and very full heft of a grown man in his palm cloaked in the skin of the teenager he fell hopelessly in love with and he feels his own cock filling again.

Jensen skillfully palms Jared while rubbing his thumb firmly up between his balls before rising higher on his knees and sucking him the way he deserves.

Jared's moans rain down on his ears as he encircles the base of Jared's cock, closing his fist around him, deep-throating him and jerking off whatever part of Jared's length isn't buried in his throat. With each incredibly intense thrust, Jared forces his cock deep, going just to the edge of cutting off Jensen's air, thighs straining, muscles in his neck standing out. Hands surrounding Jensen's head and setting the relentless rhythm he wants. He lets the desk take his full weight, fucks Jensen’s mouth and stares at Jensen’s lips around his cock. He looks like he's in a trance.

Jensen's fully hard again, cock standing thick and straight through the open fly of his pants. The way Jared's muscles shake, he knows he's fighting to make it last. Usually, Jensen would decide right now that it's time for Jared to stop fighting, but he won't. He can't. He's there only for Jared to use him - to take whatever he wants from him. He'll go as long as Jared decides he'll go.

Jensen's mouth and hand and throat work together to give every inch of Jared's cock deep, even pressure, sucking extra hard at the head when Jared pulls back and closing his throat down around his length when he finds his lips against his stroking hand, Jared filling his throat before the cycle starts again, over and over at breakneck speed. Jensen doesn't know how Jared’s holding out this long.

"Oh my fucking God, Jen, so perfect, _so fucking good_ , I can't - I gotta -"

Jensen shoves two fingers past Jared's slick entrance, palm flooding with his own hot come, still trapped inside Jared’s body, fingertips barely grazing the bundle of nerves deep inside him and Jared yells his name and he can taste the first salty blast over his tongue before Jared pulls his cock completely free, the sudden return of oxygen allowing Jensen’s brain to clearly focus on everything that's happening. Air rushes to his lungs, burning his fucked-raw throat. He's here to make Jared feel good. There is nothing else.

Jensen works Jared's prostate as the second pulse streaks his cheek and Jared's fisting himself, working the entire impressive length of his shaft above him. Jared's face the picture of awe and wonder as Jensen opens his mouth to catch Jared's release, swallows, opens up for more. Jared's coming on his chin, his neck, his chest, his lips. Fingers gripped in the spasms of Jared’s ass as he works shot after shot from his cock.

Finally Jared lets go of himself, arms on either side of his hips, grasping the edge of the desk, chest heaving, cock weakly leaking against his thigh as Jensen slowly pulls his fingers free. Jared stretches his neck back before looking down at Jensen, running a finger through the streak of come on his cheek and pushing it between Jensen’s lips. He sucks greedily, meeting Jared's gaze and basking in the warmth of it.

There's a clawing need returning to his gut. It had been released, poured into Jared, but it's part of him and it will always come back whenever his own cock is hard because Jared's willingly vulnerable in front of him. Like a law of nature. He traps Jared's finger between his teeth and Jared focuses on him, haze of release clearing with the sharp pressure of teeth on skin.

"Key?" Jensen rasps out around Jared's finger, voice rough to his own ears.

Jared blinks, takes the new key from around his neck, and deftly releases Jensen's collar.

As it falls to the floor, something roars to life inside him. Aching cock between his legs, he rises to his feet, frantically freeing himself from his wrecked dress pants and Jared finds himself slammed flat on his back against the desk, wood colliding with the back of his skull, wrenching him out of his post-orgasm bliss. Jensen climbs up on top of him, somehow lithe and graceful in spite of the time spent kneeling and the disconcerting whiplash between surrender and control. He straddles Jared's body. Hard cock at attention, then pressing deep into Jared's stomach as he leans forward and shoves his tongue into Jared's mouth, spreading the taste of Jared’s release across his own palate. Jared moans.

"Need you," he grates out as they exchange breath. "So strong. So gorgeous." Jensen barely recognizes his own voice, rumbling and low with a sharp, grating tone thanks to Jared's cock in his throat. "Gave me what I needed," and Jensen's sliding lower, kneeling, bending Jared’s knees, one of Jared's ankles hefted up on Jensen’s shoulder, other thigh pressed towards Jared’s chest, "Gonna give you what _you_ need." And he hauls Jared's ass up the ramp of his braced thighs, thick muscle in each palm, pulling him open and sliding his cock inside, plowing through his own release still held secure inside Jared's body. He slides home easily, so he adds a finger alongside his cock and they both gasp, Jared arches his neck.

"Drive me fucking crazy," Jensen growls. "Always make me lose my mind," and he rocks his hips into Jared, steady and controlled, loving the way Jared writhes on his cock, reaches over his head to grab the top edge of the desk, powerful body undulating, riding him, finding the perfect rhythm immediately.

Though it hurts to talk, Jensen can't help himself, "You know, Jared," hard shove and answering moan, "Principal Sheppard could have caught us," he feels Jared's body tighten around him in response to his words. Spreads him wider with his left hand that’s trapped between Jared's ass and his own thigh, drives deeper, keeps a hold of Jared as he bucks. "But only that first day," and he knows Jared's hanging on every word as he matches him thrust for thrust. " 'Cause after I saw you lick my desk clean," sharp drive into Jared's prostate and sudden seize around his cock, "I had the locks changed without telling anyone." Next thrust ripping a cry from Jared's lungs. "Knew I couldn't trust myself around you," second finger alongside the first filling Jared completely and stroking up against his own cock's pull and thrust. Leaning forward and the new angle has Jared whimpering and thrashing, Jensen’s gravel voice spills from above:

"I had the only key.”

And Jared almost bites through his lip, cock twitching valiantly, trying to come with nothing left to give, binding Jensen's cock and fingers together inside with the grasping pressure of his dry orgasm and Jesus Christ, Jared's so beautiful like this; trying to come because he wants to please Jensen more than anything. Jensen’s cock throbs, so deep, and he feels Jared spasm hard around him again. He’s still riding Jensen, keeping up the pace, and Jensen’s determined not only to take him over the edge, but ease him down the other side.

Jared’s _“Ah, ah, yes, fuck yes,”_ with every rhythmic thrust reverberates against the hard surfaces of the room. _“Fuck, so deep, oh FUCK, Jensen!”_ He watches Jared come apart beneath him, knowing he’s taking care of him. Only now can he allow his body to take something for itself.

His fingers alongside his cock feel the swelling, the surging, hard like forged steel, wanting to drive himself as far into his _husband_ as he possibly can. Jensen holds on until Jared’s movements start to slow under him, and Jared’s watching Jensen’s face, _wanting_ to watch him come. Jared wants to see it happen and it’s time to give Jared what he wants.

Jensen loosens the reins on his mind, allowing in the memory of Jared promising to love, honor, and obey him, for life, choosing _him_ and pledging to be _his_ in front of everyone. The enormity of it all breaks over him right the fuck -

_Now._

The first shot races deep into Jared and Jensen’s balls keep pulsing, cock pushing his scorching flow forward. He feels his hand inside Jared bathed in slick release.

Jared’s watching him. Watching Jensen’s brow smooth and his mouth open slightly, his eyes closing briefly in ecstasy. Jared, his _husband_ is surrounding him, taking him in, and Jensen’s intense desire to _own_ crashes through him with the third pulse.

Jared's body, so tight around him in the last throes of orgasm, is starting to relent and his own climax adds enough natural lube to let him pull out of that grip. Ebbing waves of intense pleasure flooding through him, he shoots the last white streaks onto Jared's muscled chest, his long neck, throat working for air. He watches his cock paint Jared from chin to navel, marking him, _his_.

Jensen gives one last hard squeeze under the head of his own cock, white running down, spreading over Jared’s twitching length, spilling over the sides to the desk, _their_ desk, below. Finally, Jensen lies down in top of him, searching out his lips and kissing him back to reality.

It's sweet, the aching in Jensen's chest. Complete wonder down to his soul and he doesn't mind that his voice is wrecked because there's nothing he could ever say that could put what he's feeling into words. Jared's a miracle. _His_ and yet he knows with utter certainty that he belongs to Jared just as much as Jared belongs to him. Solid, real, warm underneath him. Still moving with him in slow synchronicity as he kisses Jensen back, and he never thought someone would _let_ him...let him in, let him take responsibility for them, put themselves entirely in his hands, let him take risks like he just took tonight without any real fear, and yet Jared lets him do all of that and more. Willingly. Gratefully. Reverently. It's fucking beautiful. _Jared's fucking beautiful._ _They_ are fucking beautiful. _They_. Something completely unique, created from both of them. Unlike anything that came before or anything that will come after. Jensen’s astonished that such a creation, where he is one half of the equation, is even possible.

Jensen reaches up with one hand and cards his fingers through Jared's hair, lightly scratching his scalp, feels a murmured reply of contentment in his mouth. They kiss for what feels like a long time, and not long enough. Never long enough. Never enough of Jared.

Exhausted, satisfied on every level, Jensen slowly lifts himself up. Standing next to the desk, he gets an arm under each of Jared’s shoulders and helps him sit, then stand.

Jensen slowly bends to gather the unrecognizable pile of dark grey that used to be his dress pants, and when he turns back around, he sees Jared leaning over the desk, cleaning away the last shot of Jensen's come that had dripped from his chest with sweeping passes of his tongue. Jensen’s cock twitches, and come he didn't think he had left releases and rolls down his thigh at the sight. It's still the hottest fucking thing he's ever seen.

He catches Jared's eye. "Very good, Mr. Padalecki." Jensen’s losing his voice now, but Jared lets out a small moan at the words. "However, you're not dismissed." Jared rises to his full height, small twitch of a smile on his lips, and waits to hear the rest.

"I can see you know how to properly clean a desk," Jensen tries to make his voice as even as possible, though still way too raw and low and fading fast, "Now show me how you'd properly clean my cock," pause, "in the shower."

"Are you trying to kill me?" Jared asks, holding out a hand.

"You," Jensen takes the offered hand and pulls their sticky bodies against each other, lifting a finger to rub at a drop of white on Jared's shoulder - his come - _his_ Jared, "are not allowed to die."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Chris had offered to be at their beck and call that night to get them anything they needed. After their shower, which involved a lot of reverential touches over every inch of each other's bodies and deep kisses under the hot spray, Jared heads to the living room and dials his number.

When Jared answers Chris’ soft knock on the door, their friend looks more than slightly taken aback. He hands over the tray with Jensen's favorite cinnamon tea and the other things that Jared had requested saying in a low voice, "I was surprised you were the one calling." He's well aware of the nature of their relationship and assumed Jensen would have been the one contacting him for a little aftercare for Jared.

"Is he alright?" Chris asks in a whisper.

Jared smiles slyly, "I think he enjoyed himself," and raises an eyebrow.

"No way," Chris says in disbelief. "How in the world did you make that toppy bitch sub for you?"

"You know as well as I do, you can't _make_ him do anything."

"I'd better check to be sure hell isn't freezing over," Chris shakes his head slowly. "I never thought I’d see the day. Well,” he concludes, “carry on." Chris pauses, then smiles a conspiratorial smile, "Or, should I say, carry on, _Sir_."

Jared blushes from neck to chest.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

"In a few days, you might be sorry that you shaved....everything," Jensen observes through sips of cinnamon tea. Voice weak but helped by the heat of the tea.

"Did you like it?" Jared asks, taking another bite of French bread topped with sinfully rich, buttery Brie.

"How is that even a question?" Jensen replies.

"Then I'm not sorry," Jared replies with finality.

"I've heard it can get pretty irritating when it's growing back," Jensen smiles a fleeting smile.

"Well, we both took two weeks off and I have a theory about that," Jared puts on a tone of authority.

"Please, enlighten me," Jensen plays along.

"My theory is that there's a very low probability of me wearing pants, or anything else, over the next two weeks," Jared cracks a smile, "so it seemed like a statistically favorable time to do it."

Jensen leans back and regards Jared over his glasses, "Turn your theory into an equation and I'll take a look at it."

Jared laughs then, clear and beautiful, "I'm not entirely sure that the severity of hair regrowth irritation is a quantifiable thing."

"Everything's a quantifiable thing," Jensen proclaims.

Jared's laugh fades to a soft smile. He reaches out to the open front of Jensen's robe and wraps a warm hand around the key hanging against Jensen's chest. "Not everything is quantifiable," he says, voice like heated brandy.

Jensen swallows hard, "I'm pretty sure you've always been the real teacher in this relationship," his voice reflecting the warmth in Jared's.

"Duh," Jared teases.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

For the record, Jared did turn his theory into an equation and left it in the center of their desk on a fresh sheet of paper. Jensen made a show of sitting down to grade it, even put on a tie for the occasion. He marveled at how Jared was able to transfer humor into numbers, like a code that was probably only funny to the one person reading it right now. Where “X” = hair growth on one’s balls and “Y” = a variable irritation factor…it was genius. And hilarious. Jensen laughed out loud alone in the room.

He gave him an A- in red pencil in the upper right corner, then dragged Jared from the living room to the office, made him strip, climb up on the desk, get on his back, and suck him off, head tipped back off the edge, Jensen standing at one end, thick, flushed cock pulled through his fly, feeling the width of himself deep in Jared’s throat where his hands circled it, all just because of the “minus” – awarded to Jared for not putting his name on the work he turned in. 

Jared never had any intention of putting his name on it.

**THE END**

September 13, 2018

Jensen takes Jared to Chris’ club for their 10-year wedding anniversary, just like he has for each anniversary between 2008 and now.

It’s the one night of the year that Jared doesn’t wear the padlock choker – only the key – and knowing what that means turns Jensen on all through dinner until they can be alone together.

Jared’s still and always his one true home.


End file.
